


your blue skies fade to gray

by Veslya



Category: Dishonored (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood Friends, Daud is dumb, Gen, Past Child Abuse, Pre-Canon, but good things happen I swear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-04-07 13:01:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14081472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Veslya/pseuds/Veslya
Summary: The return of Emperor Euhorn Kaldwin from his trip to Serkonos was nothing Daud would usually have paid attention to - if not for the 'gift' he'd brought with him, a Serkonan swordsman with a familiar name. It wasn't the Corvo he knew, couldn't be, but...Daud had always been too curious for his own good.





	1. you had a bad day

Despite having whiskey that tasted like it came right out of the sewers, Daud reflected, the Hound Pits Pub was an excellent source of information, for entertainment and business opportunities alike.

Having been in this city for five years, it was only now that he could build his own reputation, only now that he was free. But he still had to earn his keep, which meant he needed contracts. Targets, and employers - hence the rumor mill. Soon clients would know of him, come to him directly, but for now he needed to find them instead.

Taking another sip of his drink, expertly hiding his cough and grimace at the taste, he let his eyes wander over the other patrons. The hound pits attracted customers from all social standings, but the ones that naturally interested Daud the most were the nobles, painstakingly disguised and noticeable all the same. They tended to be the only ones willing and able to pay for someone's death.

Luckily - and not completely by chance, because Daud had experience by now, thank you very much - two of them were almost directly next to him, still able to talk without slurring too much, yet tipsy enough to be louder than they would have been otherwise.

That was where Daud's luck tonight ended though. Usually the topic of choice on evenings like this was how this noble had to be brought down a peg, how that one had no right to possess some kind of expensive object, how fortunate it would be if another one was found dead in the streets - an accident, of course. Job offers, for short - because Daud was by far not the only shady character in here.

Some people probably did come for the dog fights.

But today it was all about Emperor Kaldwin and his return from Serkonos - nothing of use to Daud, or even of interest.

For a moment he let himself get lost in thought. Serkonos... he could...

No, there was nothing left for him there. Nothing at all. Daud shook his head, trying to expel the thought, the memories, the past.

Suddenly the nobles’ conversation seemed like a much-needed distraction.

"... a so-called 'gift', I've heard. Some kind of guard, really young, but fights like he's possessed." One of the two nobles shook his head and tried to remove imaginary specks of dirt from his pristine clothes. "A strange one, that duke."

His friend, disguise ruined by the stench of perfume surrounding him, snorted. "Not as strange as you'd think - after all, he has a spy in the Emperor's court now. The boy's reputation has to be exaggerated - how good can someone who's still half a child be at fighting, huh? What's his name again?"

A shrug. "Didn't pay much attention - Corvo... Something. Alto? Pazzo? Something like that. Those Serkonans with their damn names..."

Daud found himself unable to listen further, the sound of his heartbeat suddenly deafening. The little crow...? Had he...

No, it couldn't be. It had to be someone else. The name was not uncommon, there had to be thousands of Corvos in Serkonos. There was no way Corvo Attano, the little boy he had taught how to fight dirty, how to cheat at cards, how to sneak past guards, had been given to the Emperor as a gift like a slave.

Daud had to leave. Now, before he could grab the noble, shake him and demand answers. He couldn't, no matter how much he wanted to, couldn't afford to be kicked out of this pub, or to be seen as a danger.

His fingernails bit into his palms, and for a moment he simply stood there, staring into nothingness, fighting the urge to revert to violence.  _ That man _ had driven him to use it again and again, and Daud would no longer obey him. He would  _ not _ .

He turned and almost stomped out, his training kicking in at the last second to soften his footsteps and avoid attention. Another result of _ that man's _ 'good influence', as he had called it, and the mere thought was enough to make Daud grit his teeth.

Then the door was right in front of him, opening to let two laughing men inside, and Daud pushed past them, breathing in the fresh air. The wind pulled at his coat, the smell of salt and old fish filled his nose, and for a moment Daud simply let himself be, trying to forget what had brought him here in the first place.

However, his peace was not meant to last - a sultry voice broke through the fog in his thoughts almost immediately.

"Things heating up in there?"

Daud was displeased about the interruption, to say the least, but somehow the woman - yet another noble from what he could tell - did not seem to notice, nor did their age difference seem to disturb her - she looked twice as old as him. Maybe it was the small bundle of money in her hands, from what he could tell enough for him to pay for food and shelter for the next few months, maybe even get a new sword. Riches tended to make people careless, he had learned.

"Not much of a surprise, with you in there... I'm practically melting just having you look at me."

Oh. No.

"So, what do you think?" She pushed away from the wall she had been leaning against and took a step towards him. "You, me, a nice bed and some fun?"

Daud was frozen like a rat cornered by a wolfhound, unable to do anything but stare while the woman came closer and closer. Did she really...

"That scar makes you look mysterious." She almost purred. "Dangerous. I like that."

Those words finally managed to break through his shock. Taking a step backwards, Daud shook his head. "Thank you for your offer, but... no, I'm not..."

She raised her eyebrows. "Is it the money?" she asked. "You can have more, I'll triple it. What about it?"

On one hand, Daud thought, there was the money. He might even be at for a year with that amount. On the other though... he shuddered. No, he wasn't that desperate yet.

"You really shouldn't show off your money in a place like this," he advised before turning around and walking away, barely slow enough to fool himself into thinking he wasn't running.

The cool night air did its best to calm him down, well enough that he was shivering by the time he reached the room he had rented, despite the thick cloak his...  _ that man _ had given him when it became clear that Daud was not going to get used to the new climate in the foreseeable future. Something else he would have to replace as soon as he found the money for it.

He remembered the noblewoman's offer. It could have been useful, but... no. He wasn't... He wasn't that desperate yet. And even if he had been...

The thought alone was enough to make him feel nauseous. If it ever came to that...

A distraction, he needed a distraction. The mysterious Serkonan Corvo, for example, who was in no way related to the little boy he had known on the streets of Karnaca a lifetime ago. Maybe he should find out more about him - his actual name, for example. A bit of a training exercise while he waited for new clients to appear.

It wasn't  _ his _ Corvo, he was sure of it.

Daud had always been good at fooling himself.

 

\-----------------------

 

Three days later Daud silently cursed his decision, heavy rain making it not only hard to see but also turning his hiding place on a roof near Dunwall Tower into the Void in terms of temperature. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

If he had at least gotten a good view at his target! But it seemed he was smarter than Daud by far and stayed inside - an action the assassin himself knew he should take as well if he did not want to end up as sick as a Nest Keeper.

Daud stayed where he was, innate stubbornness overpowering his instincts of self-preservation easily.

But finally -  _ finally _ \- his efforts were rewarded when, only a few hours later, the doors barring the way further into the political center of the Empire opened, letting a small group of three pass. It was hard to make out details, but Daud was almost sure he saw the tan color of Serkonan skin amongst them - the once so familiar color, now faded on him, only a shadow of what it once had been. Just like him, he thought, the corners of his mouth lifting for a moment, though there was no humor in the expression.

Daud was following them before his thoughts, slowed and addled by the weather as well as what he refused to accept was a bad cold, could catch up to what his eyes had seen. It had to be the mystery 'gift', the one he had been looking for! The mysterious Corvo.

They ran, laughing (and Daud scowled - what about this weather was amusing?), until they reached the bar closest to the Tower, often frequented by those living and working there. For a fraction of a moment Daud considered entering as well - it was cold, wet, slippery, and he just wanted to get out of the rain - and had already taken another step, but then he coughed and shook his head, mentally scolding himself. Attracting attention was the last thing he wanted. A new face with worn, soaked clothes in this district would raise eyebrows, and how was he supposed to spy on them if people paid attention to him?

His inner voice sounded a lot like his former master. Daud ignored the bad feeling that rose up in him at that realization.

At least he would get a better look at his target's face when they came back out again.

With a soft sigh Daud settled down. This roof was a far worse hiding place than the one near the Tower had been - it was less protected, more visible, and somehow felt even wetter - but it was the only one he had. Complaining would get him nowhere.

His mind did not change a bit even after he had to stifle a sudden sneeze. At least that was what he would claim...

 

\-----------------------

 

The wait was over far sooner than Daud had expected - only an hour had passed since the three men had entered the bar, maybe less, before one of them left again.

It was the Serkonan he had been following.

Daud shook his head. He would take back everything - that man was obviously nowhere as smart as he had thought, willingly going back out into the rain like that. Not that he minded it. The rushing sound of it masked the quiet noises he made following the target. He would be able to ambush him and find out what he needed if he only... 

There! A dark alley, and the fool was headed right for it. The perfect opportunity!

That was as far as Daud got before he felt his feet slipping on the roof tiles. He felt himself fall, tried to hold on, to grab the edge and pull himself back up, but a sudden vertigo made it impossible. His head swam and he tumbled down, landing headfirst in the mud right in front of the man he had been trying to ambush.

This was shaping up to be a bad day.


	2. you're falling to pieces every time

The first thing that went through Corvo's mind when he saw his pursuer was that he reminded him of a cat - a very grumpy, wet cat who had just fallen off a roof and couldn't understand how or why, but a cat nevertheless. What he actually said was a bit shorter, but the situation seemed unreal enough that he had to make sure.

"You're covered in mud."

The strange man tried to get up, slipped and fell back down with another splash and a cough, covering the rest of what Corvo assumed had once been a red coat with the grayish-brown substance that passed as mud in Dunwall, though the rest of the world would have called it a safety hazard. "I like nature," he growled, fighting to free himself from the muck.

"That fall looked painful."

"Never said it liked me back." His voice was hoarse, with a featureless but certainly Gristolian accent - though, strangely enough, something about it reminded Corvo of home, of Karnaca.

He was homesick, that had to be it. Besides, he had more important things to worry about.

"Why are you following me?"

Corvo had felt it the moment they stepped out into the city. Eyes on him, a threat behind his back... and then, from the bar, he had seen him. The color red was conspicuous, even more so in a gray city like Dunwall, and a roof was only a good place to hide as long as no one thought to look up. Originally Corvo had planned to climb up himself and sneak up on the silent watcher, but this situation was even better. More amusing, at least.

Following the same pattern their encounter had taken so far, namely 'being so damn confusing Corvo had no idea what was happening', the man, instead of answering, asked a question himself. "What is your last name?"

Corvo blinked. "What?"

Finally, the man had managed to get to his feet and now sighed, concealing another cough. "Your last name. What is it? Everyone in the entire city seems to know you're called Corvo, but what is your last name?"

_ This _ was why he had been followed in the pouring rain? His last name? The man was clearly insane. But if he told him, maybe he would leave? It wasn’t like it was a secret of any kind.

"It's Attano, Corvo Attano."

The man did not leave. In fact, he did not move at all, simply stared at Corvo as if he couldn't believe what he had heard. Right - a madman. Why had Corvo thought this would be simple? He took a step back and put a hand on his sword. If the man attacked, he would be ready.

But the stranger didn't strike. Instead, after several seconds filled with tense silence, he finally managed to whisper something, barely loud enough for Corvo to hear it.

"Little crow, is that you?"

Denial slammed into Corvo before realization and recognition got a chance to make themselves known. No, this was wrong - everything was wrong. He sounded wrong, with that voice and that accent. He looked wrong, too pale, too scarred. Too old. He had vanished years ago, had to be dead. This couldn't be his childhood friend Daud, the one whose disappearance had pushed Corvo to grow stronger, to protect those around him - it simply wasn't possible.

But only one person had ever called Corvo 'little crow', despite how obvious such a nickname would seem. And for a moment Corvo could have sworn the accent had changed, the hint of Serkonos, of Karnaca, in his voice growing before it had been forced back into its bland attempt at nothingness.

It couldn't be... But was it?

"Daud?"

"It's been a while, birdbrain."

Corvo's eyes widened at that familiar insult. It was him, Daud, it had to be. But how?

He shook his head. It didn't matter - his friend was here, finally found after all those years. A chuckle broke the silence between them. Daud joined in, and for a moment they laughed together, were back in Karnaca, the sun burning down on them while waves played with their feet.

Then Daud sneezed and cursed. "Damn weather. What are  _ you _ doing in the heavens' pisspot?"

Corvo had imagined their reunion in a lot of ways, but somehow this hadn't been one of them.

"I was sent to work as one of the Emperor's guards as a diplomatic gesture," he answered, too surprised by Daud's description of Dunwall to give more than his by now standard response.  _ I was looking for you, _ he didn't say, nor  _ I wanted to make sure no one ever disappeared again, _ nor  _ I wanted to get away from the places reminding me of everyone who left. _ All of those reactions would have contained more truth than his actual words.

Daud blinked, bemused. The familiar tilt of his head was gone, his face expressionless - however, Corvo had perfected the art of reading Daud years ago - his surprise was evident.

"But... why you?"

Corvo shrugged. "I won the Blade Verbena two years ago. Apparently that's impressive." Though he did his best to sound nonchalant, his pride was obvious - as was the teasing undertone.

"The Blade Verbena," Daud repeated tonelessly. "When you were..." He paused, then coughed. "Sixteen? Void, Corvo! That's..."

"I accept late congratulations gifts." A grin spread across Corvo’s face. Simply talking to his old friend, after years of being apart, felt wonderful. He didn’t even mind the weather anymore. Only a bit.

Daud snorted. "I'll see what I can find. Just try to avoid being a diplomatic gesture towards… I don’t know, Morley in the meantime."

That reminded Corvo... "Where have you been all those years anyway? What happened, why did you disappear like that?"

As soon as those words had left Corvo’s lips, Daud flinched and froze, eyes wide with terror - the first proper expression Corvo had gotten from him all day. It did not feel like a victory. 

“I… I need to go. It was nice to see you again, Corvo. Maybe I’ll... see you around…” Daud winced (though at what, Corvo couldn’t tell) and took a step backwards, the intention to escape clear in every tense line of his body. Corvo wanted to grab him, hold him back, stop him before he vanished again, but Daud had already turned his back on him, hurrying away.

One step, two steps… and Daud slipped once more, falling back into the mud, landing on his hands and knees and coughing. Corvo shuddered when he heard the sound - a wet rasp that sounded like his friend was going to spit out his lungs in the near future.

How long had he been out in the cold like this?

Corvo crossed the distance between them in an instant and crouched down, reaching for Daud’s shoulder. “Daud - are you alright?” 

As soon as he had asked this question Corvo felt like punching himself. Of course Daud wasn’t fine; he was sick. And he couldn’t answer, because he was too busy choking. Wonderful. It was time for a new plan. 

Finally the coughing fit stopped, and Corvo seized the opportunity. “Do you have a place to stay nearby?” The grumpy look he received was enough to prompt him to add: “This reunion is great, but I prefer you alive. So?”

Daud sighed, which quickly turned into more coughing, taking another seemingly endless while to pass. “In the Old Port District. About an hour in that direction.” He waved his arm in a way that could mean anywhere, including floating above the clouds.

“Great, let’s go to the palace instead.” There was no way he was going to drag Daud through half of Dunwall in this state.

“Breaking into the palace? Why would you do that?” It seemed like Daud had mentally left the conversation. 

“I live there now, remember? That is literally where you started following us.” While he spoke Corvo dragged Daud to his feet, then slung his arm over his shoulder. His uniform would have to be cleaned, but he would survive that.

“You’ve grown,” Daud remarked. “Rude.”

Corvo laughed. “I’m sorry you’re tiny.” That was what Daud had used to tell him, and saying it was exactly as satisfying as he had always imagined.

A simple grunt answered him, all of Daud’s attention seemingly necessary for him to stay on his feet - until he looked up. “But I don’t live there. I could kill the Emperor.”

Kill the Emperor…? Corvo doubted that Daud could have killed a paralyzed bloodfly at the moment, much less the Emperor. Giving voice to those thoughts would have gained him nothing but a dark stare though, so he restrained himself.

“That’s what I’m there for. Don’t worry - you’re my guest. They won’t be happy, but they’ll let you in.”

He felt Daud’s sigh more than he heard it.

“They won’t.”

 

\-----------------------

 

They did.

“I told you so,” Corvo whispered to Daud, who grumbled something unintelligible and finally accepted his fate.


	3. where is the moment we needed the most?

Daud was drifting in an endless space; whalesong surrounding him, carrying him, lulling him to sleep. Something dark, human but not, looked at him, examined him, judged him. Black eyes seemed to burn his soul. A voice spoke - young, but as old and endless as the Void.

“Not yet.”

Something pushed him away. He was on a cloud, flying, but warm. People surrounded him. Corvo, the little crow. No, he couldn’t - Daud had left him years ago. If he was here, then surely this was a dream, it had to be.

“Wake up, please.”

He was in their old hideout, his master looking down on him. Derision, taunting words, pain. A promise of relief, a threat… a contract. The scent and taste of blood.

“Daud...!”

 

\-----------------------

 

Daud woke up warm and comfortable - remnants of his dreams, it seemed. His body ached - a familiar feeling, reminding him of yet another ‘training session’. But if he could lie here for a moment and pretend, just until he heard his master coming... Only for a minute.

A soft sigh sounded next to him - too close, far too close! - and Daud couldn’t hide his flinch. How and when had  _ he _ gotten there?

“Daud? Are you awake?”

That was not his mast-  _ that man’s _ voice. In fact, it wasn’t familiar at all - but something told him he should know and recognise it anyway. Something as faint as a dream... 

A hand touched his arm, and Daud recoiled, the sudden movement making something shift in his chest, and he coughed - producing wet, choking sounds that seemed to vibrate through his entire body, interrupted only by his wheezing gasps for breath. What was going on? Why was this happening? Where was he? Who had touched him, and why hadn’t they hurt him yet?

“It’s alright, Daud. It’s me, Corvo.”

‘ _ Corvo? _ ’ the small part of Daud’s mind that wasn’t busy coughing or fearing for his life wondered. Why would Corvo be here? Was this an unusually vivid dream after all?

Then the memories returned.  _ That man _ was dead. Corvo was in Dunwall, living in the palace. A guard, sent by the Duke of Serkonos as a  _ gift _ to the Emperor. Daud had looked for him, successfully. This wasn’t a dream - it was reality, though Daud still couldn’t understand how.

Finally the coughing fit was over and Daud could breathe again. Opening his eyes, he blinked against the dim light that filled the room he was in. It was unfamiliar - deceptively plain, but Daud had a feeling he couldn’t have paid for it with all the money he had ever seen, much less possessed. The bed he was lying in was sinfully soft, more comfortable than anything he had ever experienced. No cold draft made him shiver and everything seemed almost unnaturally quiet. Where were the steps, the shouts, the signs of fighting from outside? Their absence was worrying, but also strangely calming.

Wherever he was, it wasn’t his cramped room in the Old Port District.

Trying to get his bearings, he turned his head and found Corvo’s face there, hovering at a barely acceptable distance and clearly worried. He was here, and the tiny part of Daud that had refused to believe it until now simply melted away.

“Where…?” Daud didn’t get to finish his question before he had to suppress another cough, his voice no more than a whisper. He was sick, he realized belatedly - doubtlessly a result of spending rainy days on the roofs of Dunwall. Not one of his better ideas.

Corvo drew back and smiled. “On palace grounds. This is the room the Emperor gave me. Impressive, isn’t it?” He was sitting on a second bed that looked like Daud’s felt, the luxurious fluffiness reminding him of like a cloud - one in Serkonos, not the heavy darkness of Dunwall’s sky.

This was where Corvo lived now? It was…

Envy spread through Daud’s body like ice-cold acid, despite his desperate attempts to suppress it. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but all he could think of was a frozen stone floor, a damp, drafty room and pain. 

It wasn’t fair, feeling like this, he knew - Corvo’s life hadn’t been easy either, he deserved this and had worked hard to get here. But Daud…

Daud was an assassin. Assassins didn’t deserve a nice place to sleep in. He had to remember this - and that unlike him, Corvo was a good person.

“Daud? Is something wrong?”

There he was, the little crow, worrying while Daud was being an ungrateful rat. Guilt stabbed into his chest as painfully as a knife. “Tired,” he managed to deflect, this time without his traitorous lungs betraying him. Sleep would be good for him. It would let him escape for a while, heal faster, get out of here sooner.

Seeing Corvo again had been a miracle, but he couldn’t stay - not after everything he had done, not as who he had become.

“Oh, of course - you should rest.” Corvo was still so  _ damn helpful _ . “Do you want to drink something first? The physician said…”

The physician. Of course there had been a physician. Daud didn’t listen to the rest of what Corvo was saying, holding back a sigh that would’ve turned into cough and nodding. Dismissing the little crow like this drove the guilt in further - he was just trying to help, doing everything he could. Daud should have felt thankful, not… empty. Vaguely guilty, though that emotion was slowly but surely vanishing behind some kind of mental fog.

Maybe he  _ was _ tired after all.

When he managed to extract an arm from underneath the blankets, accompanied by an excessive amount of flailing, he shivered. When had it gotten this cold? 

Corvo was ready, holding out a glass of water for him. An actual clean glass with clear water in it, the kind you could see through without any dirt in it. Pristine. Drinking it seemed like a waste - but the taste more than made up for it. Crisp and cool, it soothed his throat and refreshed him more than he cared to admit.

“Better now?”

Daud nodded, then felt the glass being taken from his hand. His eyes had already closed of their own accord, as if something was pulling his lids down. Warmth surrounded him like a cocoon and he felt himself relaxing, drifting off.

The last thing he noticed was the blanket moving, being pulled over his arm again, then everything fell away into darkness.

 

\-----------------------

 

It took several days for Daud to start feeling like himself again, to entertain thoughts of getting out of the palace and going back to his old life. There was no future for him in this place - the sooner he accepted it, the better. Every minute he stayed here put Corvo’s life at risk. Smuggling an assassin into Dunwall Tower, even if he was too sick to even get out of bed, was risking everything the little crow had worked hard to earn. Leaving was his only option.

Finally Daud had managed to get Corvo out of the room (“You’re a guard, act like it - you can’t take sick leave because  _ I’m _ sick, birdbrain!”) and felt ready to explore his surroundings by himself, maybe come up with a tentative escape plan. Getting out of the loose attire he had been dressed in and back into his own was a relief, but not enough to push the question of who had changed them in the first place to the back of his mind. Seven years of harsh training had left scars and it was only a matter of time until someone asked questions. He had to get out before that happened, before things got… uncomfortable.

Daud was sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on his boots, when the door opened. Expecting Corvo, he finished tying his boot before he noticed the silence and lifted his head. His little crow would have started talking by now...

The Emperor strode into the room as if he owned it (which he did), with the elegance and poise of someone who could shut down an aristocrat’s objections with a single glance. Daud didn’t stand a chance. He froze, desperately trying to remember if jumping out of the window was an acceptable (survivable) way of escaping this situation.

“Good morning, Daud” - and the Emperor knew his name; he was going to  _ die _ \- “are you recovering well?”

All Daud could do was leap to his feet, hands twitching (did he salute, bow, draw a weapon?) and stare until he realized who he was staring at. Then he simply  _ had  _ to study the truly  _ fascinating _ floor. He was supposed to say something, he was sure, but where his thoughts used to be he found only dark, bleak nothingness. Instead he nodded, the question already forgotten, and hoped it was the appropriate answer.

“I see.” The Emperor - Euhorn Kaldwin, if Daud remembered correctly - still sounded as if he was talking to someone… someone normal, someone trusted, not an assassin who could have been sent to take his life. “The accommodations are to your satisfaction?”

Was this an attempt at small talk to set him at ease before he sent in the guards to arrest or kill him? Daud nodded once more but still refused to look up, terrified of what he would see. Did he know? He knew his name, but  _ what else? _ Would he tell Corvo? Daud’s heartbeat echoed in his ears, making him almost miss the Emperor’s next words.

“Look at me.”

Slowly raising his eyes, Daud tried to force the expression on his face to settle into something approaching neutrality - though his experience doing this didn’t help as much as he had hoped. At least with his- with  _ that man _ he had known what to expect. But the Emperor?

There was a smile on Euhorn Kaldwin’s face as he looked him over, and Daud was hit with the overwhelming urge to hide under the bed.

“That’s better, isn’t it?”

Daud would have liked to object - he had been perfectly fine trying to pretend the Emperor wasn’t in the room at all - but he didn’t trust his own voice, or his ability to stay out of trouble. 

“You see, my spymaster was quite unhappy with me when I decided to come down here to meet you in person. He called you a security risk. You wouldn’t know anything about that?”

His chest constricted. He couldn’t breathe anymore. This was it. The Emperor knew. Daud tried to open his mouth, to say something, but no sound came out. But that was alright - there was nothing left he could say to save himself now.

Euhorn Kaldwin clasped his hands behind his back (practically daring Daud to kill him - what was the man thinking) and made eye contact. “A few years ago there were rumors of an assassin coming to Dunwall. He kept his face and name hidden, but there were sightings of a red coat whenever an assassination took place. Quite a lot like what you’re wearing, actually. Isn’t that interesting?”

The fear that had been pooling in Daud’s stomach ignited in a flash of rage. His fingers curled into fists as he took a step forward. “Why do you ask?” he growled. “Why do you care? You obviously already know everything!”

Once more a smile spread on the Emperor’s face - but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “So you do speak. I was wondering.”

Daud could have throttled him, but managed to keep himself under control, fists trembling at his sides. He was being played with, but he wouldn’t take it lying down. The weapons hidden in his clothes were gone, he was still too weak to fight a rat, let alone a grown man and his guards, but he wouldn’t give up. He’d defend himself with all he had left -  his words. When he opened his mouth to spit an answer, though, Emperor Kaldwin was already talking again.

“The man you were working with, where is he now?”

The hot rage turned cold. Suddenly Daud’s thoughts were like ice: clear, sharp, and marked by the absence of life.  _ That man… _

“He’s dead,” Daud answered, not bothering to hold back the hate in his voice. Then, in case it wasn’t obvious enough: “I killed him.”

The Emperor paused and blinked, then shrugged. “Good. That’s going to make this easier.”

Wait, what? It was going to make what easier? Did he think Daud would have been saved from his well-deserved execution otherwise? Was this when the guards came in to arrest him? Daud took a step backward, painfully aware that he had neither the tools nor the strength for an escape.

“It has come to my ears that you have found yourself without an employer. Corvo seems to be awfully fond of you, so do you think you could work for me?”

_ ‘It has come to your ears my ass - I just told you’ _ , was Daud’s first thought, quickly followed by  _ ‘wait, what did he say? He can’t mean…’  _ His eyes widened. Surely that was impossible, he was imagining this... 

“There will be rules, of course. Supervision, at least until we’re sure you can be trusted. And if anything… undesirable happens and you’re connected to it in any way, there will be no second chances. Do you understand?”

“I…” Daud coughed. “No, I… You’re offering me a job?” The Emperor’s assassin - he had never heard of such a thing, but what else…?

Emperor Kaldwin nodded. “I am - though do not misunderstand, I’m not in need of an assassin.”

That was unexpected, and Daud frowned. “Then why…”

“My current spymaster is growing old, and capable replacements for that position are hard to come by. If you prove yourself trustworthy, maybe one day you could take up the mantle. What do you think?”

Daud didn’t know what he thought - the offer had caught him completely off-guard, and his thoughts were racing (stumbling, really) to see the hidden catch, to find the trap that would doom him, proof that this was not actually happening.

He couldn’t see it.

Suddenly Daud realized he was simply staring at the Emperor, gaping, for what had to be an unacceptably long time. He forced his mouth shut, then immediately opened it again.. “I… Yes, I… I mean…”

For some reason he had thought speaking would be easier.

Emperor Kaldwin raised his eyebrows, clearly amused judging by the suppressed smile playing around his mouth. “Should I count that as agreement to the terms?”

Daud nodded emphatically, cursing his unreliable mouth. “Yes, your… Highness.” Then he just hoped he had chosen the correct form of address without inadvertently insulting the most powerful man in the Empire.

The smile that finally escaped onto the man’s face proved that Daud was in no way prepared for life at court. 

“My  _ Imperial Majesty _ is pleased.” He paused for a moment. “I’ll send my spymaster soon, to finalize this. Maybe I’ll even tell him to play nice. And I’m sure you have a lot of thinking to do, so I’ll leave you to it.” Nodding at Daud, he turned to leave before stopping once more. “Oh, and a bit of… personal advice. You should tell Corvo about your  _ former _ occupation. Honesty towards friends is important, don’t you think so?”

The way he stressed the word ‘ _ former _ ’ made his words sound like more of a threat than advice. Daud shivered, glad Emperor Kaldwin couldn’t see it anymore, and before he could put an answer together, he was alone once more.

Collapsing back onto the bed, he sighed. A lot of thinking indeed - offers that sounded too good to be true often were, and the fact that he hadn’t found a catch before didn’t mean there wasn’t one. But a potential position as Royal Spymaster, a stable life, an  _ honest _ life, or at least as honest as a spymaster’s life could be... 

Daud wanted it to be true.

And about Corvo… he would tell him. Later. After talking to the spymaster, when the time was right. But first he wanted to have some more time without it casting a shadow over them. Only a few days…

He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. The tightness around his chest was almost gone, his recovery was almost complete. He had his friend back, the promise of a future, and, for the first time in years, he had hope.

Things would turn out just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it is over.  
> I have thoughts for a sequel (with an actual plot and character development, one might actually call it a "proper story" *gasps*), but unless I get a sudden massive interest in it I'll probably end up working on my other projects instead.  
> Anyway, thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the song Bad Day by Daniel Powter because finding titles is somehow harder than writing the entire fanfic.
> 
> But really, it's such a good way of saying "you moved from Karnaca to Dunwall."


End file.
